


Timestamp II: Kahu a Alaka’i

by Cattraine



Series: Sentinel 'Verse [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-20
Updated: 2011-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-24 19:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattraine/pseuds/Cattraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Guide hadn’t stopped talking or waving his arms and hands around since they stepped out onto the floor and began the test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timestamp II: Kahu a Alaka’i

**Author's Note:**

> For the_other_sandy. Prompt: The Sentinel timestamp -- Danny ‘s rants versus Steve’s zones.

Dr. Randall Hobbes and Professor Herman Dawson sat in the observation booth, busily scribbling notes on their respective clipboards, as they peered through the one way window down into what had once been a warehouse floor, but had since been converted into a maze for Sentinel and Guide testing. The course zigzagged across the entire floor forming a labyrinth of turns, twists, targets, blind walls and switch backs, complete with booby traps that when tripped, emitted loud sirens, odd sounds and odors and flashing lights, all designed to confuse and disorientate Sentinels.

“Fascinating, just fascinating.” muttered Hobbes under his breath as he flipped the page and made an additional note.

“ _How_ does he do that?” growled Dawson as he glared down at the pair strolling casually through the maze. He stared down at his clipboard listing the perfect scores of Lietutenant Commander Stephen J. McGarrett and Detective Sergeant Daniel Williams.

The tall, dark haired Sentinel prowled lazily along, head high and shoulders back, weapon easily held in hand, as he glanced around alert for any danger to he and his Guide. He nodded occasionally in response to whatever the short blond man was saying. The Guide hadn’t stopped talking or waving his arms and hands around since they stepped out onto the floor and began the test. He appeared quite agitated. They were already half-way through the maze and had passed two of the previous Sentinel/Guide teams that had entered ahead of them.

One of the incapacitated Sentinels sat against a wall, mesmerized by a bank of rapidly blinking LEDs that had popped unexpectedly up in front of him, while the other stood in the middle of the aisle, swaying and shaking her head, nearly zoned by the high pitched humming sound from a nearby speaker. Their respective Guides crouched and stood by them, speaking quietly, attempting to bring them out of the debilitating zones.

As Hobbes and Dawson watched, the tall Sentinel lifted his gun and casually shot the target that popped sneakily up as he passed it, his Guide nodding his approval, even as he spread his arms in a wide, sweeping gesture to make a point about whatever he was babbling about. The Sentinel had yet to even blink or flinch at the test objects that had caused discomfort and zones to _all_ the previous teams.

Snarling with frustration, Herman reached over and flipped a switch so they could monitor what the blond Guide was saying, and they both listened hard. Was it some obscure Buddhist mantra? A mysterious, forgotten Native Healing chant? They waited breathlessly for this perfect mantra that apparently prevented zoning in Sentinels.

“Nice one babe! Anyway, I told Rachel that no way in hell was my daughter going to enter one of those damned kiddie pageants! Have you seen those things? Little girls dressed like miniature hookers parading around on stage! “ His voice rose in outrage and his hands slashed angrily through the air. “They’re all tarted up! Caked with make-up and wearing stockings and heels and mini skirts! No one is putting eyeliner and slutty red lipstick on my baby girl before she’s at least 21! Ballet, yes, Hooker lessons, NO!”

The Sentinel nodded attentively and appeared to be biting his lip to keep from laughing as he replied solemnly.

“21?”

The Guide leveled a finger at his nose, and his voice rose a dangerous notch, as he scowled up at his partner.

“That’s right, McGarrett! Are you laughing at me?”

“No, Danno, of course not.”

The Sentinel neatly sidestepped a stealth pop-up strobe light, and one hand dropped lightly on his Guide’s shoulder, as he directed the shorter man around it. The Guide spread his hands, head tilted up so he could maintain eye contact.

“After all, its not as though she’s going to be dating before she turns 30, and has graduated with a few PH.ds under her belt, you know?” The blond turned his head and peered around curiously, raised a hand and scratched his head, then glanced at his watch.

“ Hey, I thought this maze thing was supposed to be hard? I mean we’re making good time. You wanna get lunch at Lilihua’s after?”

The Guide never blinked as his Sentinel placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him in his tracks for a moment, then shot over his shoulder and neatly took out another sneaky pop-up target. They continued on their way, stepping carefully over the legs of a Sentinel curled in a fetal ball near the exit of the maze, his Guide frantically trying to revive him from the zone caused by a hissing canister of foul smelling smoke.

“Hey buddy, you guys alright?” The blond solicitously asked the distressed Guide, who nodded and distractedly waved them on.

They continued on their way out of the maze and towards the Exit, the Sentinel holstering his sidearm, as he bickered amiably with his Guide about his cholesterol rating and the health benefits of eating sushi for lunch instead of malasadas. The Sentinel raised his head and smirked at the two scientists in the observation booth, as his Guide gave them a little farewell wave. McGarrett dropped a possessive arm over the smaller man’s shoulders as they stepped out into the sunlight.

Mutely, the two scientists stared at each other, then at the timer on the console in front of them. McGarrett and Williams had strolled through and completed the entire maze in less then fifteen minutes. Sighing, Herman put down his clipboard and pinched the bridge of his nose. How the hell were they supposed to explain to the Guild that their best Naval Combat Sentinel apparently thrived on bickering with his Guide like an old married couple? Randall covered his face with his hands, groaned with frustration and leaned back in his chair.

Sometimes being a scientist sucked.


End file.
